


Griffith's Lonely Night

by RinNightroad



Category: Berserk (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Play, Ejaculate, M/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, Oral, Other, Swordplay, Swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 18:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22262284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinNightroad/pseuds/RinNightroad
Summary: Guts isn't always around to pleasure Griffith, so one night Griffith gets creative - with Guts' sword!
Relationships: Griffith/Guts (Berserk)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Griffith's Lonely Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kirin_Riki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirin_Riki/gifts).



> 100% inspired by the bonus chapter of Mo Dao Zu Shi where Wei Wuxian shoves Bichen up his ass. Please enjoy this 100% inaccurate story.

His tongue coiled around the end of the hilt of the sword, coating it liberally. Griffith lay on his back, nestled within the blankets in his tent. The bare blade lay flat along his naked body, pressing down against his swollen member. If he moved the wrong way, he would cut himself, but that only added to the excitement. He was so hot, but Guts couldn‘t satisfy him tonight, Guts had spent the whole day in battle alongside other members of the Band, he needed some proper rest before tomorrow’s endeavors.

Thus, Griffith had come up with a solution, if he couldn’t have Guts, then he would have the closest thing- his sword. Getting the sword has been easy, he had simply taken it from Guts when he had returned from the fight that evening, claiming that he would clean it for him. Guts had been so exhausted, he hadn’t protested.

Griffith sucked on the pommel, eyes lidded as he breathed in. The leather grip smelled like him, smelled of his sweat, his musk. It was more than enough to turn Griffith on.

Soon the hilt of the sword glistened in the faint moonlight - not much could penetrate the fabric of the tent. And Griffith didn’t dare light a candle, he didn’t want anyone to see what he was up to, and they didn’t have many to begin with. Satisfied that the hilt was ready, he held the sword steady with one hand the other going to his lips, then reaching under and around towards his puckering bottom. He carefully eased a finger inside, freezing when he sword moved a bit, which sent a jolt of masochist pleasure through him. The blade had not cut his fine porcelain skin, and he had to suppress a shudder of delight. Ah, the risk, the danger, he loved it. 

Slowly he began to loosen himself up, being ever so careful. Another finger joined the first, then another. He took the entire metal pommel into his mouth to stifle his growing moans. His whole body began to quiver from the effort of trying to keep his hips still- if he thrust them now, he would surely cut himself. It only made him hotter.

He felt very empty when he removed his fingers and sat up, but it wouldn't be for long. He lifted the sword out of harm’s way and adjusted himself appropriately. The slicked up pommel, despite how much he had worked it still felt cool against his needy entrance. For a brief moment he wondered if it would even fit, if maybe he should have used some other lubricant- but his impatience tossed those thoughts away.

Taking steady breaths, he worked the cold metal inside him. It was big - much bigger than he thought, but he could handle it. If he could handle Guts, then this should be no problem. It was still very tight, even with the earlier foreplay. Griffith had to remember to breathe.

He took his time, he had all night after all, and he wasn’t going out on tomorrow's mission, unless things went terribly wrong, but that never happened when Guts was there. He pushed the cold metal deeper into his body, trying to ignore the burning sensation, for he knew it would soon turn to pleasure. Soon it was in as deep as he dared to go for now, and he let his body adjust, before starting to pull it back out. Griffith bit back a cry of pain, this hurt a lot more than he thought, but so had his first time with Guts. The thought of Guts settled him, and he relaxed his muscles, not realizing he was so tense. No wonder it hurt.

Keeping calm, he thrust the sword back in, building up a slow rhythm, one that was starting to feel quite nice. He lay back down in the blankets, panting and mewling softly. Griffith didn't want to disturb the other band members while they sleep, but he couldn’t deny that the thought of being caught gave him a bit of a rush. A rush that obliterated the last of the pain. The sword was occupying his hole, but his member demanded attention. He quickly shoved some blanket into his mouth to keep him quiet, and then stroked his aching stiffness.

Ah Guts! He longed for his partner’s rough touch, but violating Guts’ sword like this- this was a new kind of pleasure. One that Guts would never find out about.

Griffith’s hips bucked sharply, and the sword hit that sweet spot deep inside him. His body jolted with delight, his cries muffled by his worn cotton blanket. It was a shame he’d washed his bedding recently for it had smelled pleasantly of Guts, but after that last round with him, it had needed it. 

He thrust the sword in deep, trying to hit that spot again. His member leaked down his other hand, he was close to his climax, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted it to end or not.

With another great thrust into his sweet spot, his vision went white. He spasmed wildly amongst the blankets, his seed shooting forth, coating his glistening stomach. He was sure that this time someone would hear him, but he didn’t care. He spit out the blanket and lay still for a bit, panting hard, his mind still floating among the stars.

Eventually he noticed the discomfort in his lower region and gently pulled out the sword. He couldn’t see the state of it in the faint moonlight, but he knew he’d have to give it an extra good cleaning tomorrow morning before anyone else woke up, especially Guts. And Guts was an early riser. ,Better do it tonight,' he thought, 'but first, I need to rest a bit.'

The heavy sword wasn’t a perfect substitute for Guts, but Griffith would try another round if the opportunity and need arose. Hopefully it wouldn't, but one could never know what the future could bring. Griffith never foresaw that one day he would please himself with a sword.


End file.
